Beyond Repair
by GeneHarlow
Summary: Isaac finds out that Lydia is more broken than anyone knew, and resolves to help her. The only problem is whether she'll be willing to let him. WARNING: This gets a bit dark. [Doesn't start out as Isaac/Lydia... just FYI]
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my new story! It's a little bit different, and I know it obviously starts pretty far away from Isaac/Lydia, but they'll get there eventually. Bear with me guys. Bit of a slow burner. I hope y'all like it! **

* * *

This was not how Isaac Lahey had imagined he would lose his virginity. He wasn't sure what exactly he had thought it would be like, but, as he shook the dirt and dead leaves off his T-shirt, turning away from her to pull it on, he couldn't help but think this wasn't what he'd had in mind. Cora hadn't looked at him since he'd rolled off her, and he chanced a glance in her direction to find her growling softly as she scanned the foliage for something. He spotted her once-white tank top disgarded a few metres away and retrieved it, clearing his throat to get her attention. She whirled round, crossing her arms in front of her chest as if she hadn't just had it readily on display.

"Erm... lose something?" He asked, trying to grin at her, but failing at the glare she shot at him. He examined the stained, muddy item before she stalked forward, snatching it out of his hands and staring at it with dismay. "Er... I'm sorry about your shirt." He wasn't sure why he felt responsible, since she had been the one to pull the tank top over her head and throw it into the undergrowth, but he thought he should apologise anyway. A sudden thought popped into his head, as he watched her pull the ruined top on, glaring down at herself like she could will the rips and the dirt away.

"Oh!" He said, casting his eyes around the dark forest floor until he spotted what he was looking for. "You wanna wear this?" He asked, holding his black leather jacket up in front of her, again trying to smile at her. His smile wavered in the face of the look she gave him.

"Look. Isaac. I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"It's just a jacket, Cora." He shrugged, though he knew what she was about to say.

"Not to you. You think you're gonna give me your jacket like some chivalrous white knight and I'm gonna swoon and we're gonna ride off into the sunset."

There was silence for a moment while he contemplated that.

"It's just a jacket," he repeated quietly, the hurt evident in his voice.

Her tone softened when she spoke next, and she took a little step towards him.

"Look, I like you Isaac. You're a great kid, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"_Great kid_? We're the same age."

"Well, in human years... yes." Isaac cocked his head to the side, but she ploughed on before he could question that comment too much. "But it's been a long time since I was in a pack like this. After the fire, I went and found a pack out in Louisiana and they had a... different way of doing things. Full moons were..." She struggled to find the right words, glancing around the forest, avoiding his sad gaze. "Well, things were a lot more fluid. Full moons were a time with no limits, no boundaries - They gave in to the wolf." For the first time since he had met her, Cora looked awkward, seemingly not as comfortable talking about this way of life as she had been living it. "I guess for a moment, I forget I was back here, and then you were just... here."

"I was just..._ here_." He echoed back to her, nodding to himself, feeling some small satisfaction at how guilty she looked.

"I'm... sorry." She choked out the word like it was unfamiliar on her tongue. "This can't happen again though. My brother warned me to stay away from you."

A tiny spark of hope ignited in his chest at her words. If Derek had warned her away from him, that must mean she at least liked him a little.

"Ah. So you do like me after all?" He said playfully, reaching to push at her elbow gently.

"Well... Actually Derek said you asked about me, and didn't want me to encourage you."

"Oh." Isaac turned away slightly, feeling his cheeks burn in humiliation. "Well then fucking me in the woods was a bad move then." He'd meant for the words to come out playful, trying to laugh the whole thing off, but he couldn't keep the bitter edge out of his voice, the words coming out tense and sharp. He glanced up to see her take a shocked step back, unused to hearing him talk like that. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did." She wasn't angry. She simply looked at him with pity and sadness, like she blamed herself for bringing out such an ugly side to him***** before turning to walk away.

"Like I said, it wont be happening again." She quickly turned off the brief wave of pity and compassion and the tough Cora was back, as she paused to fix him with a hard look. "And if you've got any sense, you'll keep this to yourself. It would hurt Derek if he had to hurt you... but he would." And with that, she took off, retreating smoothly into the forrest like she'd never been there. The lingering scent of sex and the pine soap she used were the only reminder she'd even been there. No, this was definitely not how Isaac had pictured losing his virginity.

***Fun fact: Daniel Sharman actually has no ugly sides. It's been proven.**

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"You're home." Derek's voice was unreadable. Isaac could only stand in the doorway of the apartment, frozen, trying to work out if he was in trouble, or if Derek had been worried about where he had been, or if, worst of all, he knew what Isaac had been doing. The silence stretched on and it took Derek a few moments to glance up from his book at Isaac, who still hadn't moved.

"I went for a run." Isaac said lamely.

"Ok." Derek replied, confirming that he had simply been commenting that Isaac was home, no double meaning. Isaac sighed in relief when Derek went back to his book, barely sparing Isaac a second glance. He slid the door shut behind him, crossing the room, desperate to reach the safety of the shower, when he saw Derek lift his head out of the corner of his eye.

"Wait." Derek held a hand up to halt Isaac, who was halfway across the room. The staircase had been so close, the steps to the sanctuary so near, yet so far. Derek rose from his chair gracefully, setting his book aside and crossing to stand in front of Isaac, letting his gaze wander down and up, taking in his dishevelled appearance. Isaac tried not to squirm under his gaze, but it was impossible under such intense scrutiny.

"Why are you so dirty?" Derek asked finally, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at him, gesturing to the dirt that covered his face and clothes, and the dead leaf that had lodged itself in his curls.

Isaac focused on steadying his breathing and keeping his heartrate even as he replied. "I fell."

"You fell?" Derek repeated, incredulously.

"Yes. I fell." Isaac said. It wasn't technically a lie. He had fallen. He just left out the part where he fell because Derek's baby sister had pounced on him, knocking him to the ground.

Derek crossed his arms, his expression unreadable, staring at Isaac for a moment before averting his gaze, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

"Ok." Isaac breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like Derek had bought it, and he turned on his heel, the spiral staircase closer than ever.

"Oh and Isaac?" Isaac paused, his hand on the handrail.

"Why do you smell like sex?"

Isaac managed to rearrange his expression of utter terror into one of shock and confusion when he turned to face Derek again.

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about."

Derek simply stared at Isaac, as if daring Isaac to tell him he was wrong, and Isaac quickly realised there was no use denying it. He was just glad that Derek didn't seem to smell his sister on him. He silently thanked all the leaves and the mud and the dirt that must be just about enough to mask that faint pine smell that was distinctly Cora.

The silence stretched on and on, while Isaac shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He was usually glad that Derek was a man of few words, not needing to fill every second of the day with mindless chatter, but he wished he would say something now. Isaac floundered for a few moments, trying to think of something to say. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or horrified when he heard Cora's voice pipe up above his head, a dull metallic footstep echoing down to them.

"What are we talking about?" Her voice was a little too tight and shrill, clearly reading some tension in the room. Isaac glanced up to see her descending the metal staircase, glad to see she was clearly fresh out of the shower. At least Derek wasn't going to be able to use any lingering scents on her to piece two and two together. However, as she shook her wet hair to the side, the droplets of water dripping down to soak through the fabric of yet another white tank top, he wasn't sure he wasn't about to give it all away with the way he was staring at her. She followed his gaze to her chest, and flashed him a dark look, crossing her arms in front of herself and turning to beam at Derek.

"So? What are we talking about?" She pushed insistently.

"Isaac got laid." Derek said simply, grinning with something that almost looked like pride.

Cora didn't skip a beat, gracefully descending the last few steps like she was wearing a ball gown, not yoga pants and a tank top, beaming happily at Isaac.

"Is that so? Congrats!" She said, smacking him lightly on the arm. "Didnt know you had it in you."

He narrowed his eyes at her, a little in awe of how good her act was.

"Oh, you'd be surprised." He murmured through gritted teeth.

"So who is she?" Derek asked, already starting to slip the disinterested mask back into place.

"Erm. Nobody." Isaac said, a little too quickly, doing everything he could to not glance sideways at Cora.

"Nobody?" Cora queried, just managing to keep the indignance out of her voice.

"Tell us." Derek demanded simply, clearly losing interest in the whole thing. Cora siddled past Isaac to stand next to Derek, crossing her arms to mimick his strong stance.

"Yeah Isaac, tell us." He wasn't sure why she was pushing him, putting him on the spot. There was a wicked gleam in her eye and he could tell she was enjoying his discomfort. He glared at her for a moment, in a way that he hoped Derek saw simply as annoyance at being pushed for a name.

"Well..." He rubbed his neck, avoiding their collective stare. "She's no-one really. To be honest, she's kind of a bitch."

Cora gasped softly, and Isaac was sure she'd given the game away. He looked up to see Derek regarding her curiously, following her angry glare to Isaac's defiant face, before she seemed to shake herself, realising she was about to give it all away. Before Derek could read too much into her irritated expression, she gasped again, as if suddenly realising something.

"Lydia!"

Isaac's mouth fell open at the mention of Lydia's name. Cora looked triumphant, while Derek looked unconvinced.

"Think about it. It makes sense. He has a total crush on her, and who else do we know who's a massive bitch?" Isaac flinched at Cora's smug tone. While he knew Lydia could be cold and brutally honest on occasion, there was a truth to at least one part of what Cora had said - He did used to have a crush on her, and he didn't like to hear her described as a "massive bitch".

He looked up to find Derek staring at him inquisitively.

"Well? Is Lydia the lucky girl?" That gleam of pride was back in Derek's eyes. Lydia was one of the prettiest, and most popular girls in the school, and while that sort of thing meant nothing to Derek, he knew that it would be a big deal to the previously unpopular and invisible Isaac.

Isaac let his mouth gape open wordlessly for a moment, before averting his gaze in a way that he hoped looked sheepish.

"You know what they say. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." And with that, he swept past them, taking the stairs two at a time to get away from the most awkward conversation of his life.

A soft chuckle from Derek echoed up to him, followed by a rare joke from the often serious alpha.

"A real gentleman doesn't come home reeking of sex with mud patches on his knees."

Isaac glanced down at himself. Sure enough there were two telltale patches of dirt on the knees of his jeans. He hadn't even bothered to take his jeans all the way off. Classy. He was just glad Derek hadn't gotten a look at his sister's back before she'd made it to the shower, otherwise, he had a feeling that conversation would have gone very differently.

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**Well, what do we think? Yes, I'm making Cora a bit of a bitch in this. I never really liked her - Sorry not sorry.**

**Anyhoo, I love to know what you think! I know Lydia/Isaac isn't a popular pairing but give it a chance. I think they could be kinda cute together. Reviews are love!**


	2. Chapter 2

"I still don't get why I have to be here." Lydia whined, flopping dramatically on the leather couch.

"This is a pack meeting. And, human or not, you are considered pack." Derek explained calmly, displaying more patience than usual.

"Welcome to the dark side." Stiles joked, smiling at her with the smile he reserved only for her.

"But why now?" She pouted, crossing her arms. "Even before I knew what you all were, I've been helping this pack without realising for months. Why am I only now being considered... _pack_?" She spoke the word without any of the reverence Derek had used.

Derek glanced at Isaac before continuing.

"It just felt like the right time."

"I for one would like to welcome you to the pack. I'm glad you're a part of our happy little family." Peter spoke up from the shadows, his voice oozing with charm.

"I am not part of your family." Lydia shot back instantly, her expression hardening. She sat up a little straighter, resisting the urge to shrink down against Stiles, knowing he would protect her. Shaking her hair, she plastered her smug smile on her face before continuing. "I suppose it's finally good that you're recognising my unique set of skills. Frankly, I'm not sure how you lasted this long without me."

Derek just rolled his eyes, swallowing any retort and leaving the room, returning with a crate of cans of coke. He started handing them out to the teens that were littering his living room. Stiles had insisted that they had "pack meeting refreshments", to which Derek had flatly refused, eventually giving in and compromising by providing cans of coke. Stiles was clearly still taking it as a win, taking the can of coke gratefully.

"Thanks, big guy."

Derek's sigh was audible and it was clear that he already regretted even this small concession. He stood in front of Lydia, holding out the can to her, watching her as she regarded it with contempt.

"Do you have anything diet?" She asked, wrinkling up her nose at the full fat coke in his hand.

"No." Derek replied, already regretting inviting her along. The pack meetings had been Stiles' idea in the first place - a way for them to talk about any issues that needed to be discussed, as well as a place for Stiles to pass on any information about suspicious sounding cases that his dad happened to mention. Inviting Lydia had been a courtesy to Isaac, and one that he was already regretting, as the girl huffed and sighed dramatically.

In a heartbeat, Peter sprang forth from where he'd been leaning against the wall, lingering in the shadows.

"I think there's a diet snapple on top of the fridge. I could go get it for you-"

"I'll get it myself." She huffed, pushing herself up off the couch and heading for the kitchen. She passed Cora in the doorway, not quite understanding the contemptuous look the girl gave her as she passed.

"What's SHE doing here?" She heard her ask, as she swept out of the room and into the kitchen. Lydia couldn't understand Cora's apparent dislike for her, but then again, she couldn't understand Cora's apparent dislike of skirts or make-up either, so it wasn't surprising that her motives were a mystery to her.

It didn't take Lydia long to locate the promised diet snapple, perched on top of the fridge. The only problem was that Peter had failed to mention that they owned some kind of refridgerator behemoth, a vast, silver monstrosity that took up most of one wall of the small kitchen.

Derek entered the kitchen just in time to see Lydia raise herself up on her toes, reaching helplessly like a thirsty child. He was forming a witty remark about her small stature when he noticed something. Her aztec print sweater had risen up, pulling away from the waistband of her skirt, leaving a large stripe of pale skin exposed. Although his first instinct had been to look away, he couldn't help but notice the bruises that marred the pale skin of the sides of her waist. His gaze travelled upwards to where faint scratches criss-crossed up her back, disappearing under the edge of her sweater.

Lydia whirled around, catching him staring at her.

"God! Take a picture. It'll last longer." She placed her hand on her hip, and Derek wasn't sure if he imagined her wincing slightly, wondering if she had another unseen bruise there. When he didn't say anything, she sighed heavily, rolling her eyes and pointing wordlessly up at the drink.

He was too embarrassed at being caught looking to do anything but trot over obediently, reaching up to retrieve the drink for her. He couldn't help but stare at her as he got closer, running his eyes up and down her, scanning for any other signs of injury. It was only as Lydia rolled her eyes at him again that he realised how this must have looked.

"What is it with you Hale men? Are you all perverts? Or am I just irrestistible to you all?" She huffed impatiently, fixing him with a hard glare. He gulped, sure that stronger men than him had wilted under that gaze, before remembering he was the alpha, and he was in his own home.

"Don't flatter yourself." He shot back, handing her the bottle. She recovered immediately, completely ignoring his retort, instead turning her attention to the snapple bottle in her hands.

"Oh." Her face fell. "This is lemon. I only like peach. Oh well." She shrugged, before thrusting the bottle back into his hands and pushing past him without another word.

Derek wasn't sure he got what Isaac saw in her. She was spoilt, conceited and infuriating. That said, he could perhaps see the appeal of such a lot of fire tied up in such a pretty little package. He turned to watch her leave, noticing the way she pulled her sweater down, tucking the back into her skirt, hoping she wasn't concealing any more injuries under those clothes. He would have to have words with Isaac about that.

* * *

"Isaac, can I have a word?" Derek gestured him over and Isaac knew he didn't really have much of a choice. He took a deep breath, sure that Derek must have guessed that him and Lydia had never even shared a conversation, let alone a night of passion. He had caught Derek staring at him curiously during the meeting, glancing between him and Lydia with undisguised confusion. Scott and Stiles had babbled on endlessly about the alpha pack, while Lydia squirmed uncomfortably, feeling Cora, Derek and Isaac's eyes on her, aswell as the usual creepy stares from Peter. For a girl used to being the centre of attention, Lydia found the scrutiny disconcerting, especially when she caught Isaac doing his best to look at her with something akin to lust. But, as he stood in front of Derek, nervously avoiding his gaze, he was sure it hadn't been enough - He had surely guessed that he'd never so much as touched Lydia Martin.

"Yeah. What's up?" Isaac tried to act casual as he strode over to stand in front of Derek.

"It's about Lydia." Isaac had guessed as much.

"You two didn't talk much today." Derek looked strangely uncomfortable, unused to having to have this kind of talk with teenage boys.

"Yeah..." Isaac searched for something to say. He was a terrible liar, and hated having to lie to someone who had shown him such kindness, but as images of Cora writhing under him flashed through his mind, he realised the alternative was much worse. Not just for him, but for Cora too, who was only just reconnecting with her brother. He cleared his throat, thankful that Derek couldn't read his mind right now. "We erm... We're keeping it on the down low."

Had he really just said "on the down low"? He cringed inwardly, flashing Derek a much too bright smile.

"Okaay..." Derek said, looking as confused by Isaac's wording as Isaac was. "Well that's between you both. But what I wanted to talk to you about was..." He gestured for Isaac to sit down, looking more uncomfortable than he had ever seen him. Isaac breathed a brief sigh of relief, thankful that his and Cora's secret was safe for the time being. However the relief was short lived as he waited for Derek to speak again, taking a seat next to him, watching him rub his hand through his hair. Oh god, was this The Talk?

"I know it's easy to get carried away." Derek started, as Isaac blushed. This** was** The Talk then.

"Derek. Stop." He screwed up his face, trying to think of what to say. "This isn't neccessary."

Derek looked so uncomfortable that he looked physically pained, as he took a deep breath before continuing.

"I think it is neccessary-"

"No. Look. You don't need to have The Talk with me Derek. We were... safe."

Isaac was pretty sure he was bright red now, with images of his 'safe' imaginary tryst with Lydia flashing through his mind.

"Not safe enough." Derek muttered under his breath, still avoiding eye contact. He clasped his hands in front of him. "I saw the bruises on her. I know it's easy to get carried away in the... heat of the moment but... er, you have to be careful with her. Just because she's immune, doesn't mean she's indestructible." The words tumbled out too fast, like Derek was unused to saying so many words in one go.

There was silence for a moment while Isaac processed this information.

"She has... I left bruises on her?" He asked, in a small voice, feeling a strange amount of guilt for something he had no part in.

"And scratches. I know you would never hurt her on purpose. You just need to be aware of your own strength." Derek patted him on the shoulder, before standing abruptly, bringing the conversation to an end. He walked away without another word, pausing in the doorway to glance back at the boy who hadn't moved. Isaac looked stricken, leaning forward, wringing his hands together. Derek felt a momentary pang of guilt, knowing that Isaac would never hurt someone on purpose, but he didn't regret speaking to him. Whether Lydia Martin was going to be a permanent part of the pack or not, he couldn't allow one of his wolves to hurt her, whether it was on purpose or not.

Issac rose from the couch suddenly, grabbing his jacket as he headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Derek asked.

Isaac didn't pause as he headed straight through the door.

"Out." He shouted over his shoulder, sounding every bit the seventeen year old that he was.

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**I'd just like to add here that, for the purposes of this story, Lydia bruises like a peach. Just FYI.**

* * *

Isaac wasn't sure what he was doing. He didn't have a plan. He'd barely even spoken to Lydia, so he couldn't very well just appear and ask her why she was covered in bruises. Part of him just wanted to believe that Derek hadn't seen what he thought he had, that he'd made a mistake and that Lydia was fine. He wasn't even sure why he cared - He had no responsibility to her, he barely even knew her. But Cora had been right. He did have a crush on her and, either way, he felt like he should at least check that she wasn't hurt. And that was why he found himself outside of her house at midnight, unsure of what to do next.

The lights downstairs went off and he focused his hearing, listening as footsteps retreated upstairs, followed by a door softly closing. Isaac hovered in the shadows for a while longer, waiting until the sounds of movements in that side of the house stopped, before he crept forward, heading towards the only room that noise still emanated from. Following the quiet scuffling sounds and the soft humming of something that sounded like Taylor Swift, Isaac paused under her window, listening for a moment.

_"-mistakes ago. I was in your sights. You got me alone."_ She sang the words softly, and much slower than the original, making the words seem so much more sad and poignant. She continued in barely more than a melodious murmur as he began climbing the trellis outside of her window, not giving himself a chance to talk himself out of it. He would just get a glimpse of her, make sure she was ok. It wasn't spying, that's what he told himself. It wasn't spying because he was just going to make sure Derek was definitely wrong and then leave.

At least that was the plan. But as Isaac reached the top of the trellis, leaning to the side to peer through the window, he hadn't expected to be confronted with the sight of Lydia Martin wearing nothing but a pair of lacey panties. His immediate reaction was to swing away from the window, feeling like he was violating her privacy, but in the split second he took her all in, he couldn't help but notice the dark, finger shaped bruises that marred the sides of her body. She stared unhappily at her reflection in the full length mirror, turning from side to side, examining the marks on her hips and waist. Isaac didn't seem to be able to look away, allowing his gaze to travel up and down her body, cataloguing every bruise, every one of the pale scratches across her back.

She swivelled suddenly and he ducked instictively, but she wasn't looking at him; she had turned to investiate the scratches he had just noticed, peering over her shoulder at them in the mirror. Isaac fought in vain to keep his gaze from dropping to her chest, not being able to stop himself, immediately noticing what looked like a faint bite-shaped mark on her breast. He knew he should tear his eyes away from her, but he found that he couldn't. He hadn't planned for this. He had planned for Derek being wrong, but this seemed to be the very opposite. It seemed that the bruises Derek had seen had been the tip of the iceberg. The only problem now was what to do with this new information.

The shrill chorus of "I Knew You Were Trouble" suddenly filled the room, the upbeat original contrasting sharply with the slow, sad version Lydia had been singing only moments ago. In a move that somehow seemed instrinsically Lydia, she moved to wrap a short kimono style robe around herself, as if answering the phone nude would be improper.

"Hello? Oh hey. Yeah. Yeah... No, not really. Stiles talked alot so nothing new there... They all kept staring at me... I have no idea." She laughed softly at whatever was said. "Yeah, you're probably right." There was a pause, then her expression darkened slightly, and she glanced worriedly at herself in the mirror. "No, not tonight..." She leaned in close to the mirror, pulling at the dark circles under her eyes that were now apparent now her thick mask of make up had been removed. "I'm still kinda sore from yesterday." The words came out bright and flirtatious, though her expression looked weary as her eyes darted to her hips. "No, I'm just tired. Yeah... Tomorrow then. Goodnight." She hung up the phone, giving herself one last, dissatisfied glance before she retreated to the bed, wearily flopping back against the pillows, wrapping herself up in her quilt.

Outside her window, Isaac landed gracefully on the lawn, trying to process what he had just seen. Someone was hurting Lydia. And, more surprisingly, she was letting them. It wasn't hard for Isaac to guess who, but the big questions were why Lydia was letting him, and what Isaac was going to do about it.

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**Lydia being a Taylor Swift fan is going to be a recurring theme in all my fics, I think. I quite like the idea of one little recurring detail tying them all together. Hope you're all fans!**


	3. Chapter 3

**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! 3**

**My first idea for this story had Aiden just being straight up evil, but then I decided I kinda liked him, so I added some internal moral conflict. He's not evil, he's just... obedient and damaged. Also, this chapter contains some dark and sexual content. Just a warning.**

* * *

"I don't want to do this anymore."

"Don't tell me, bro. Tell Deucalion."

Aiden threw his sandwich down in disgust, glancing uneasily around the crowded lunch room. Though they had no shortage of admiring stares, no-one was listening to them. Nonetheless, Aiden leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"I tried." He hissed, looking pained. "He wouldn't listen."

Ethan was gazing around the room, occasionally grinning when he caught someone's eye, disinterested in the conversation at his own table.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah yeah, second thoughts, moral grey area, yadda yadda." He listed casually, before noticing the glare Aiden was shooting at him.

"Look, I don't know what you want me to say. We have our orders. We don't have much of a choice."

"Easy for you to say. He's not asking you to hurt yours." Aiden shot back, hating the casual way Ethan was swigging from his drink, leaning back on his chair like he owned the place.

Right on cue, Danny caught Ethan's eye, shooting him a shy wave, which Ethan returned with a seductive smile and a wink.

"Don't you care? Don't you wonder why we're having to do this? Do you ever think to ask?"

Ethan sighed heavily, swivelling round in his chair to face Aiden head on.

"Honestly? No. I'm banging a hot guy and keeping my boss happy at the same time. What's not to like?"

"And if Deucalion asked you to hurt him?"

There was a flicker of something unreadable behind Ethan's eyes, but it was quickly gone, replaced by an impassive look.

"He wouldn't. That's not part of the plan-"

"But if he did?"

"Then I would do what I had to." He said, his words coming out measured and even. Ethan leaned in, finally taking Aiden seriously, watching as he wrung his hands together, shredding his napkin nervously.

"Look, he's not asking you to beat the shit out of her or anything." Aiden scoffed at his choice of words, like it made it ok.

"He's just testing her. You know what he said - She's more use to us broken."

"What if I don't want to break her?" Aiden muttered quietly, more to his napkin than to Ethan.

"She's the one letting you, bro." He reasoned as he waved at Danny from across the room again. "She's not saying no. What does that say about her?" He shrugged, like Lydia's apparent lack of self worth made his brothers behaviour any better. Danny jerked his head at the door, and Ethan took a step forward, licking his lips salaciously. "Anyway, gotta go." He turned to wink at Aiden. "Duty calls."

And then he was gone, practically jogging across the lunch room to follow Danny to god knows where, leaving Aiden feeling worse about it all than he had before their conversation. As he watched his twin lace his fingers into Danny's, dragging him down the corridor, he couldn't help but think that the only person he hated more than Ethan was himself.

* * *

"A stationery cupboard? Really?" She whirled round to fix him with an unimpressed look, reaching for the door handle. "I'm going back to class-"

He cut her off by reaching past her to push the door shut, leaving his hand on the door, effectively trapping her against it. He heard her breath quicken, her heart jump as he closed in on her, placing his other hand on the other side of her head, caging her in against the door.

"What are you doing?" She asked innocently, though a small smile played on her lips. Waves of desire rolled off her as he leaned in, pushing his body against hers. He couldn't ignore the hint of fear that he sensed, but he pushed it aside, hating himself as he did so. He was angry, at Deucalion for making him do this, at her, for letting him, at his brother's cavalier attitude, and most of all at himself. But Ethan was right - he had no choice. Defying Deucalion was a death sentence, so he would obey, detach himself from his conscience and take his frustrations out on the girl if it meant guaranteeing his and his brother's continued protection from the pack.

He realised he had been silent for too long, his jaw set in a hard line as she gazed up at him with wide, expectant eyes. He couldn't look into those eyes anymore, so he squeezed his eyes shut, their lips colliding hard as he closed the gap between them to kiss her. He kissed her ferociously, tangling his hands in her hair, yanking her head back to gain better access to her mouth. She nipped at his lip, and it just made him angrier. It was like she was still trying to show him she was in control, like she had no idea just how much she wasn't. He growled, relieved when he heard her heart rate quicken suddenly. Good. She should be afraid of him.

Infuriatingly, she kissed him back even harder, her tongue duelling with his for control, while his hand dropped down to slide under her skirt. Without warning, he grasped at the side of her underwear, sliding one long claw through the fabric, ripping the little scrap of teal satin away from her body. She gasped into his mouth, but gave no protest when he disgarded the ruined garment, slipping his hands between them, fumbling to undo his belt.

He moved his lips to her neck, sucking a bruise there while he undid his jeans, pushing them down to his ankles. Hooking his thumbs into the sides of his boxers, he paused for a moment, resting his forehead against the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her with an unchacteristic gentleness.

_Tell me to slow down. Tell me to stop._ "Say no." He muttered, muffled against her hair.

"What?" She panted breathlessly, oblivious to his internal struggle.

"Nothing," he murmured, as he slid his boxers down to his ankles, before grasping her thighs, lifting her off her feet and thrusting inside of her in one graceful movement. She mewled shakily, gasping at the intrusion after no warning and so little pre-amble, and he pulled back to look at her, willing her to tell him to stop. A beat passed, and no protest came and he hated her. He hated her for being so weak and before he could stop himself, he slammed her back against the door, pressing against her with his full weight, forcing himself deeper. She gasped, but had no time to catch her breath as he set up a punishing rhythm, digging his fingers hard into the undersides of her thighs as he held her up. She could do nothing but cling to him desperately, every thrust wrenching a shaky little whimper from her.

She came quickly, her body swiftly responding to the heady mix of pleasure and pain, jerking against him as she cried out. His hand covered her mouth, muffling her loud, shuddering sobs, keeping just enough presence of mind about him to remember they were still at school. With a few last faltering movements, he followed Lydia over the edge, trying to block out the soft cries she gave as he involuntarily bucked too hard against her, thrusting her up against the door a few times before stilling.

Burying his face in her hair to avoid eye contact, he slowly lowered her legs to let her stand, pretending he didn't notice the way her legs trembled when her feet hit the floor. Without a word, she swept past him, her legs still shaking under her, giving him space to sort himself out. He silently pulled his jeans up, doing up the zipper before chancing a glance behind him. She was bending over, reaching to pick up her purse and the ripped slip of teal satin that had once been her underwear, when he noticed the finger marks on the back of her thighs, already a blotchy pink against the pale skin of her legs.

He was wondering if he had finally gone too far. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been this rough with her before, and she still hadn't said a word to him, studiously facing away from him while she caught her breath. Only once her breathing had calmed did she chance a glance at him, offering him a small, uncertain smile that made him hate her all over again.

_Yell at me. Tell me I was too rough._

She didn't. Instead she stepped closer to him, reaching up to press a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. It was sweet and tender and nobody deserved to be kissed like that less than him right now.

He sneered at her, as if amused by her attempt to bring a gentleness out of him.

"Till next time, babe," was all he could manage, before he fumbled for the handle behind him, falling out into the desserted corridor and leaving her alone in the gloomy cupboard.

Lydia was frozen for a moment, before pulling herself together. It was just sex. That was all. He wasn't her boyfriend; He was her distraction, so he owed her nothing. Ignoring the hollow, empty feeling in her chest, she blinked back the sudden tears that had sprang from nowhere. Tucking her shirt in, she gave herself a silent little pep talk. _You're not This Girl. You don't want him to love you..._

_You do want him to respect you though, right?_ The judgy little voice in her head piped up, asking the question she couldn't answer. He didn't respect her. That much was clear, but at this point, she couldn't really blame him. She wasn't even sure she respected herself anymore.

Giving her clothes one last smooth over, she took a deep breath, stooping to pick up her bag, before pushing the door open- And running straight into Isaac Lahey, who was standing right outside the door, looking at her with the saddest eyes she'd ever seen. No-one said anything for a moment, Lydia's mouth falling open in shock, while Isaac looked her up and down anxiously.

"Are you alright?"

* * *

**I just wanted to say, I knew this was gonna be dark when I started writing it, but even by my standards, this has spiralled a little bit. I'm clearly a very twisted soul.**

* * *

"What?"

"Are you alright?" He repeated, his eyes boring into hers. There was a long, tense silence before Lydia pulled her smile back into place, flipping her hair back confidently.

"Of course." She said, giving him a look that dared him to try and tell her otherwise.

He inhaled slightly, letting his gaze drop down her body and Lydia's cheeks coloured as she realised he was smelling the stickiness that coated the inside of her thighs.

"Excuse me." She muttered, fighting to keep her head up as she pushed past, managing to resist the urge to sprint to the girl's bathroom just up the corridor. She didn't look back, but she knew he wouldn't follow her. He barely knew her - Why should he care if she was having sex in the stationery cupboard? It was none of his business and he knew it, so she breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the bathroom without hearing the tell tale squeak of footsteps behind her.

Studiously ignoring the mirror, not ready to look at her dishevelled face just yet, she slipped into a cubicle, trying to clean herself up as best she could.

"This is a low moment." She muttered to herself, as she wiped at her thighs with tissue, trying to see the funny side, but failing miserably. Her hands shook as the reality of the moment hit her. She was Lydia Martin - smart, popular, pretty, and here she was, all alone, after cutting class for a meaningless tryst with a guy she wasn't sure she even liked. Throwing the tissue away, she reached with shaky hands for her bag, her fingers quickly locating the small bottle at the bottom. She tipped two of the small pills into her hand, pausing for a moment before adding a third, swallowing them dry before she could talk herself out of it.

Lydia froze as she heard the door open and close, followed by a couple of uncertain footsteps. She slipped the bottle back into her purse as quietly as she could, holding her breath for a moment. The last thing she needed was to be seen by anyone right now - caught with less-than-perfect hair, a blossoming hickey on her neck that was crying out for concealer, clutching a bottle of zanax she had stolen from her mother. Low moment wouldn't even cover it.

"Lydia?" A male voice rang out uncertainly, echoing through the bathroom.

"Isaac?" She blurted out, before remembering she was pretending not to be there. Oh well. He knew she was there already - She was sure that the question in his voice was just a courtesy.

"Are you ok?"

"You can't be in here. This is the girl's room."

He ignored her.

"Are you ok?" He repeated insistently, making Lydia sigh in annoyance. Why should he care?

The door swang open, slamming against the wall, making Isaac jump. He looked incredibly shifty, clearly mortified at being in the girl's bathroom, but something was making him stay.

"I told you," Lydia started, sweeping past him to look at her refection, trying not to grimace at the mess that confronted her. "I'm fine. Brilliant. Great even."

She ignored his concerned gaze behind her in the mirror, and set about pulling a make-up bag out, smoothing concealer over her dark circles as if he wasn't there.

"I don't believe you." He blurted out, looking as shocked as she was by his sudden outburst.

She paused for a moment, before regaining her composure, repainting her lips a bright cherry red, feeling his eyes still burning into the back of her head.

"Good thing I don't really care what you believe then." She snapped back at him, pouting into the mirror.

There was a long silence where Lydia tried in vain to smooth her hair down, eventually giving up and just fluffing it up with her hands, deciding to work with the messy, sex hair look.

"I... heard you." He announced simply. She didn't need to ask what he had heard. Her face paled, and she watched herself take a deep breath in the mirror.

"I... er, was it that loud?" She asked, hating how small her voice sounded, desperately trying to avoid his gaze in the mirror.

"No. Werewolf hearing, remember?" He replied quietly. She chanced a glance up at him. He hadn't moved from behind her, but now his gaze was cast downwards, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

"Oh." She breathed out quietly, unsure of what to say next. She tore her eyes away from him before he looked up, not being able to bear the thought of meeting his gaze right now.

"How long has this been going on?"

"That's really none of your business." She meant for the words to come out sharp and confident, but she couldn't quite manage it. Her voice sounded ever so slightly slurred to her own ears and she realised the pills she took were kicking in, a reassuring numbness beginning to creep in. Good. She couldn't take the sad, pitying way he was talking to her, making her think too much about the choices she'd been making recently. A dazed sense of detachment washed over her and the shake in her hands was replaced with a strange heavy feeling throughout her limbs.

Her makeup bag fell to the floor, the contents clattering over the tiles. Had she done that? She hadn't even noticed, her hands moving traitorously slowly now. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, and when she opened them, Issac was crouching down, his hands darting out to gather her possessions from the floor. She joined him on the floor, kneeling awkwardly, while trying to keep her skirt covering as much as it could.

"You should be more careful." He said, suddenly.

"It was an accident." She muttered, annoyed at being told off for dropping her own belongings.

They both reached for her concealer at the same time and their fingers met. Lydia tried to pull away, but Isaac's fingers tightened over hers, stilling her hand and drawing her gaze up to his.

"I didn't mean that." He said pointedly, lightly squeezing her fingers. "Abuse doesn't always seem like abuse at first." She wrenched her hand away from his gasp, straightening up too fast and having to grab on to the sink to steady herself.

"Abuse? I don't know what you think you heard, but it was not abuse." She turned to find him looking at her from under his lashes, his eyes wide with sorrow. Her tone softened, realising that this must be a sensitive topic for him. "Look, I get why you're worried, but it's ok. I'm ok. He just forgets his own strength sometimes."

Isaac scoffed at her words.

"Do you hear yourself?" He snapped, making her jump. "You're making excuses. I know. I've been there."

Lydia glowered at him, her brief moment of trying to empathise with him already trying her patience.

"No, actually, you haven't." She started, defiantly. "We're not the same. This isn't the same situation. I had sex in a closet. Your father beat you and locked you in a freezer." She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, watching Isaac wrap his arms around himself as if the memories physically hurt him.

"He didn't always." He murmured, mostly to himself.

Lydia opened her mouth to say something, to try and wipe the dark look off his face with an apology when a noise just outside the door made them both freeze. There was a split second where no-one moved, until the door cracked open, and Lydia made a decision, grabbing both her purse and Isaac's hand, dragging him into the nearest cubicle. The door swung shut a milisecond before the door to the bathroom squeaked open, the giggles of adolescent girls echoing around the room. Lydia and Isaac froze, squashed face to face in the too-small cubicle.

He was too close to her now to stop himself from inhaling the heady mix of coconut shampoo, sweet floral perfume, sex and... something else - Some bitter, chemical smell that he didn't recognise. She peered up at him with dazed eyes, and he wondered what exactly he was smelling. From her listless gaze, he could guess that whatever it was could also explain her slurred speech and uncoordinated movements.

Noting the troubled look on his face, she opened her mouth to speak, apparently momentarily forgetting the girls just the other side of the door. His hand shot up, pressing a finger to her lips, his eyes shooting fearfully to the door as if the oblivious women on the other side had heard her take a breath.

He was still staring at the door like he could see through it, his finger still pressing against her lips in a strangely intimate gesture when she reached up before she could stop herself. He flinched slightly, startled by the feel of her fingers lightly brushing away an errant curl that had flopped into his eyes. The graze of her fingertips across his forehead drew his attention back to her, and he was suddenly reminded that his finger was against her lips, dropping his hand immediately.

Her expression was blank as she finished sweeping his hair back, letting her hand trail down the side of his face, her eyes following it's path past his cheekbone, down to his jaw. As she lightly grazed her fingernails down his neck, Isaac couldn't help but let his eyes drift closed, unconsciously closing the small gap between them. He leaned into her touch, just as Lydia leaned back against the wall, jutting her hips forward against his. Her hand continued it's path downwards, her nails scratching across the fabric of his shirt, and Isaac took a shaky breath, his eyes still closed. It was only with this breath that Isaac got another whiff of the strange chemical smell that he had easily forgotten about. It shocked him back to his senses and his eyes flew open, taking in her vacant eyes and the dreamy smile playing on her lips before his hand shot up to grab her wrist, stopping her hand's movement down his chest.

She frowned at him, wrinkling her nose in confusion, before the sound of the door slamming shut drew both their attention back outside of their little cubicle. They had forgotten they weren't alone, both of them tuning out the idle conversation of the two girls, and Isaac was thankful that their strange little moment had transpired in silence. They both stared at the back of the door for a moment, but the sound of heels clicking away followed by an oppressive silence let them know they were alone again.

Isaac let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, glancing back at Lydia to find her glaring at him. She snatched her hand out of his grip, shoving him back against the other wall of the cubicle and sweeping past him without another word. He started to follow her, but stopped himself before he'd even taken a step. What would be say? _You know how you just basically caressed me? Well, what was that about? Oh and are you on drugs?_ If trying to offer unsolicited advice about her werewolf boyfriend had gone badly, he dreaded to think how that conversation would go down.

So he let her go. He listened to her footsteps retreat down the hallway, hearing a scuffle and a soft bump as she stumbled into the wall, muttering an expletive, before carrying on, until he couldn't hear her anymore.

His fingers raked through his hair as he puffed out an exasperated sigh. His mind flicked from his night with Cora to the handful of strange, heated glances he had shared with Allison, and back to this new development with Lydia. As he stared at the imprint of cherry red lipstick that was staining the tip of his index finger, he couldn't help but wonder if all his exchanges with women destined to be so fraught and perplexing? He readjusted his jeans, only now thankful for the privacy of the girl's bathroom. Her scent still lingered in the air though and the cubicle suddenly felt claustrophobic, the hints of coconut and pharmacueticals choking him.

He banged out into the hallway, practically falling out the door, just as the bell rang, narrowly avoiding being caught coming out of the girls bathroom. How did he get himself into these situations?

* * *

**Fun fact - I had to google what the proper name for an index finger was because I just call it my pointing finger. Yes, I am actually THAT stupid!**

**Thank you for your reviews, guys! Glad to know I'm not the only person out there intrigued by the idea of Isaac/Lydia. **

**Also, I've just started a dark Stiles/Lydia fic aswell. I was going to wait till I was finished with this one, but I'm kind of annoyed now cause I think the show is basically gonna go a similar route to my story so I'm gonna look like I'm just copying when in fact it was my idea first! [I will sue you, Jeff Davis! I will sue you till I legally own Daniel Sharman!] **

**Either way, I'm considering starting to post that one aswell, since I know some people might be getting restless if they're not Isaac/Lydia fans. What do you guys think? Do you want me to start posting my Stydia fic, or would you prefer to wait till this one's finished and then start that one? It's up to you! xx**


	4. Chapter 4

"What? What is it?" Lydia spun on her heel, crossing her arms in front of her. She was impatient, eager to get home and wash this strange, trying day off of her.

Ignoring the bored look she gave him, he pulled her to him, pressing his lips against her neck.

"Maybe I just can't get enough of you." He murmured, muffled against her skin. She sighed and jerked her head away, pulling away from his eager lips.

"Didn't you get enough of me in the stationery closet?" She asked wearily, leaning back from where his hands were still clamped around her.

"Apparently not," he whispered, pushing her back against the desk. The backs of her legs connected with the hard edge of the desk, pressing against the faint bruises there, and she gasped. He pulled back to look at her with something close to concern, before the look was gone, replaced with the teenage lust she knew only too well.

His lips found her neck again and she yanked her head away from him, the movement aggravating the headache she'd been nursing since the pills had worn off.

"Not here. I'm not having sex with you in a classroom." She said defiantly, as he ignored her, his hands roaming all over her body.

"We don't have to have sex." He muttered, his hands moving to her shoulders, pushing her down. She resisted but her weak, traitorous legs gave out under the pressure of his hands, and she was almost on her knees, his hands moving to tangle in her hair before she snapped back to her senses. Her hands shot out and she pushed at him with all her strength, relieved when he took a step back, instantly feeling less claustrophobic now she wasn't pinned between his crotch and the desk.

"No. I don't want to." She said quietly, as she clambered back to her feet, her legs still shaking, suddenly realising how burnt out she was.

"Come on..." He whined, reaching for her again.

"No!" She snapped, stopping him before he touched her. Isaac's words from earlier were ringing in her ears, and she reached back to grab her bag, not taking her eyes off Aiden, who looked dumbstruck.

"I don't want to do this anymore." She said, more to herself than him. The realisation was crushing.

"Why?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, looking genuinely curious. She had expected anger, but not this.

"Because..." She floundered for a moment, unsure of what to say. The realisation that she didn't want to do this anymore had come out of nowhere, which meant she hadn't even really decided her reasons yet. "Because, you don't like me. And I don't think I like you." She said simply, sighing as if the weight of this sudden epiphany was exhausting. "And you don't treat me right." She added quietly, avoiding his curious gaze. When she finally looked up at him, he was staring at her with an unreadable expression. He looked almost... proud, which couldn't be right. They stared at each other for a moment, both trying in vain to suss the other one out, before he plastered a sneer on his face.

"Whatever babe. Plenty more just like you." He said dismissively, turning on his heel and striding out into the gloomy hallway without another word to her. There was a pause, where Lydia tried to decide how she felt, wondering whether it was strange that she felt nothing. After a moment, she silently padded after him, both of them heading to their vehicles without so much as a second glance. She sat in her car for a moment, wondering if their departure would have been different if she had gone down on him in that classroom. Would he have kissed her goodbye? Or waved? Or acknowledged her at all? She doubted it.

* * *

Isaac was distracted and confused for the rest of the day, deciding to work out his pent up... whatever he was feeling with some lacrosse. He didn't know how long he stayed out there, but the sky was beginning to darken, and he had been alone on the field for some time when something caught his eye across the field. The doors to the school slammed open and Aiden came practically running out, pulling his leather jacket on, followed by Lydia only moments later. It looked like his advice had gone unheeded. He wasn't surprised - Why should she listen to him? - But he was still disappointed, as he watched Lydia mutely follow Aiden down the steps, shaking his head when Aiden simply jumped on his motorbike and drove away, without a second glance or a goodbye to her. Couldn't she see she was worth more than that? Still, it was none of his business. He had tried, and there was nothing more he could do. He resolved to simply stay away from Lydia Martin. How hard could that be?

* * *

Avoiding Lydia turned out to be harder than expected, when he came home the next day to find a pack meeting in full swing. There she was, sat primly on the sofa, her hands clasped in her lap, ignoring every word coming out of Derek's mouth. Isaac stood in the doorway for a moment, hesitating. No-one had noticed him yet. Maybe he could just sneak out?

He watched in silence as Peter crossed the room, proudly presenting Lydia with a diet peach snapple.

"It's peach." He clarified, to a mystified Lydia. "I overheard it's your favourite." He beamed at her, clearly assuming she'd be eternally grateful and all would be forgiven. His smile faded slightly when she regarded the drink mistrustfully.

"I'm not thirsty," she said eventually.

"But... It's your favourite." Peter said in a small voice, staring at the drink like she was sure it was poison.

"She doesn't want it, bro." Stiles piped up, from besides Lydia. He sat up, keeping his tone light and conversational. "To be fair, the last time you gave her a drink, it was wolfsbane-roofie punch that drugged all her friends into seeing our worst nightmares." A hard edge crept into his voice, as he sat up a little straighter, clearly reliving that night. "So I think you can understand why she might be slightly suspicious of anything you offer her now."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Stiles, who stared back defiantly, the jump in his heartrate the only thing betraying his fear. Derek sighed heavily and strode over, snatching the bottle out of Peter's hands and standing in front of him, daring him to defy him.

"Enough! Sit down!" Derek boomed and Peter shrank back, retreating to the chair behind him, still glaring past Derek at Stiles. Isaac watched as Lydia turned to Stiles, gently placing her hand on his chest, pushing him back to settle against the couch again. He instantly calmed at her touch, sinking back into the cushions and taking a deep breath.

"Thanks but... I wish you wouldn't do that." Lydia was muttering, leaning in close to Stiles, whispering right in his ear, clearly forgetting that whispering in a room full of wolves was pointless. Her hand was still resting casually on his chest, and Isaac wasn't sure why the intimacy of their quiet moment together was bothering him so much.

"I can handle Peter-" She murmured, and from across the room, Peter snorted.

"Oh I'd love for you to handle me, Lydia." He said salaciously, winking at her.

Both Stiles and Derek tensed, opening their mouths to say something, cut off by a low growl from the shadowy doorway. Isaac couldn't help the deep rumble off annoyance that sprang forth from deep within his chest, confused by the rage that flowed through him at seeing Lydia as the object of both Peter and Stiles' affections.

Everyone was staring at him, and he realised his presence was no longer a secret, clearing his throat and stepping from the shadows. His mouth flapped open uselessly, as he tried to explain his mysterious growl, but when no words came, he simply sat down, as far from Lydia as physically possible. Derek flashed him an exasperated look, before Isaac cast his eyes down, squirming under the feel of everybody's gaze burning into him.

"Well," Derek started, momentarily lost for words. "Let's move on." He cleared his throat much too loudly, trying to draw attention away from the blushing boy in the corner.

Isaac barely registered the rest of the meeting - Derek was saying something about the alpha pack, warning about what dangers they might pose with tonight's full moon, while Isaac focused on avoiding eye contact. He looked up a few times - Once making eye contact with Peter who smirked at him like he was privy to some big secret, and then catching Lydia's eye, who scowled at him and made a big show of flicking her hair as she turned away from him.

"Isaac? Are you listening?" Derek asked impatiently.

"What? Yeah." Isaac lied unconvincingly.

"I said we need to be extra careful tonight. We have no idea how powerful the alpha pack could be."

"Yeah, they're strong. I know." Isaac grumbled, feeling like he was being singled out in class. Derek turned to him, flashing his eyes angrily at him.

"No, Isaac. We don't know. That's the point. We don't know their strengths. We don't know their weakness. What we've seen could be the tip of the iceberg for all we know, and I don't want to find out anything about their powers tonight. What makes us strong, also makes us weak." Derek turned around the room, catching everyone's eyes, addressing everyone. "The full moon makes us stronger, yes, but it also tests our control. It makes us weak, vulnerable. I've seen Deucalion - He's not above exploiting this. I don't want tonight to be the night we find out what he's capable of." Derek's tone softened slightly, and he smirked dangerously. "We'll save that for another time." He finished, just as Stiles broke into a one man round of applause.

"Oh bravo. Excellent speech, sour wolf!" He praised him excitedly, while Derek rolled his eyes. Everyone groaned, but the mood lightened, with even Peter softening his glare to chuckle softly. "Seriously, one of your best pep talks yet. Have you thought about going into motivational speaking once we're done with this whole alpha pack business?"

Lydia giggled, and Stiles looked so happy, a dreamy smile playing on his lips because he had made an oblivious Lydia laugh. Isaac watched him, the urge to punch him creeping in, though he didn't know why. He liked Stiles. He just hated to see him pine after a girl who didn't want him. Or maybe he was just sick of seeing guy after guy fall for Lydia Martin. Peter couldn't get enough of her, lapping up her every word, even though most of them were insults directed at him; Stiles was head over heels in love with her, which wasn't helped by her casual flirting with him; Aiden was... well, Aiden was having sex with her, though whether he actually had feelings for her was another issue entirely; Even Derek seemed vaguely charmed by her, putting up with her snide remarks more than he would from anyone else. Then again, Derek treated Stiles the same way, so it was possible he just felt some faint sense of fondness towards the humans in his pack.

Lydia flashed him a sad, shy look from under her lashes before she left, the first look all day that hadn't been a scowl, and Isaac felt himself smile back before he could stop himself.

He watched her retreat, unable to stop his gaze lingering on the curve of her ass in her coral-coloured jeans as she ascended the few steps to the entrance. He found himself hoping she'd stop and look back when she got to the door, but instead she paused, then carried without a second glance, and Isaac felt himself sag as she slipped out of sight. He looked around the room, and saw his own disappointed expression reflected in the faces of the men around the room (except Scott, who was texting, oblivious to it all) and Isaac felt a brief flash of anger, as he realised he could add himself to the list of men falling for Lydia Martin. How did she keep doing this?

* * *

**Just a little filler chapter for now. I added in some slight Stydia and Dydia feels for you guys in this chapter, cause I just couldn't resist!**

**As always, thank you for your feedback! Much love! Keep em coming, gang.**

**Unrelated: Am I the only one with a REALLY bad feeling that Isaac is going to die in tonight's episode? Like, I think they're trying to make us think that Stiles is gonna bite the dust, but... I dunno guys. My spidey sense is tingling and... I'm scared. Someone hold me?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for such a long gap! For once it's not my fault - I wasn't just being a useless waster; My laptop keyboard broke and I had to take it in to be fixed. It's been a long, dark, internet-free coupla weeks, but now I'm back! Yay! **

**Another warning: Things are about to get dark again. I just wanted to warn anyone who might get upset or offended. **

* * *

"She said no."

"Did she now?" Deucalion replied, as if amused. He circled the boy, his cane tapping his way in a circle around him. "What an interesting turn of events."

Aiden stood, his hands balled into fists. It was an unconscious reaction when he was around his leader - He couldn't help feeling on edge, like the older man was about to snap.

"Yeah. She said she didn't want to see me anymore." Aiden shrugged, like he'd done all he could to stop her.

"Right. And how did you take that?"

"Well, I tried to change her mind..." He focused very hard on the way he had whined the words "Come on" at her, hoping that if he could convince himself he wasn't lying, Deucalion would believe it too. "But she put her foot down. Said she didn't like me." He didn't need to lie about that part. The words had stung, but he knew they were true. He also knew she had been right when she said that he didn't like her. He didn't really. He wasn't sure either of them could like anyone else until they liked themselves. Maybe now they were apart, they could start.

"So, I guess we did all we could but-" Aiden took a step forward, digging his hands in his pockets, hoping they were done. He was cut off by the clatter of a cane swinging in front of him, blocking his path.

"Not quite. I think you might be underestimating my desire to have the girl join us."

"But, she can't turn. She can't be one of us."

Deucalion tutted, circling back round to stand in front of Aiden.

"Such a closed mind. She needn't be were to join us." He tutted again. "So elitist." He muttered quietly.

There was a silence for a moment, and Aiden gulped, the sound overly loud in the quiet room.

"Do you have any idea how powerful we would be with a banshee joining our pack? Having a creature of that power, we would be unstoppable."

"Then just ask her. Ask her to join us. She has no real ties to the Hale pack."

Deucalion chuckled, like he was talking to a child.

"Oh Aiden. If only it were that simple. Do you know nothing of her kind?"

Aiden gave a small shake of his head, feeling foolish as the older man took a step towards him. He resisted the urge to cower back, instead standing tall with his hands behind his back.

"They are willfull, dangerous, cunning." Deucalion was smiling to himself. "There is a darkness within her. I sense it. It must be nurtured, fed until there is no good left in her. She's no use unless she's broken."

"She's not a horse, Deucalion. You can't break her." Aiden spat, rage suddenly burning within him. Deucalion stepped closer still, the tip of his cane touching Aiden's shoe.

"Of course you can." He whispered menacingly, sending a chill down Aiden's spine. "Anyone can be broken if you try hard enough."

Aiden finally took the step back that he'd been desperate to take for so long, holding his hands up.

"No, ok? No. I'm not going to do this. She's done. I'm done. I'm out." He turned to leave, when a voice boomed out, halting him in his tracks.

"DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!" He roared. Aiden didn't turn round, but stopped dead, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"You will do as I say, or you will suffer the consequences." Deucalion dropped his voice to a whisper, which was somehow much more menacing than him shouting.

"Or perhaps it would be more effective to say that your brother will suffer the consequences."

Aiden still didn't turn around, but he knew Deucalion heard the soft, warning growl he emitted, before he spun around slowly, a smug look on his face.

"You wouldn't. You need us. Both of us. We're stronger together."

Deucalion made a show of considering his words, but even as he said them, he knew Deucalion would have already thought of that.

"True," he said, his tone contemplatitive. "But I can make you tear apart his new friend. Danny, is it? Despite what he says, I suspect he's grown rather fond of his little assignment. I wonder how well you'd work together if I made him watch while you ripped Danny's throat out with your teeth?"

Aiden paled. He recognised a defeat when he saw one. Deucalion pushed past him to face the window, tapping the top of his cane against the glass, gesturing at the heavy moon, which was just beginning to rise through the dusk-darkened clouds.

"Full moon tonight." He pointed out needlessly. Aiden opened his mouth to speak when, without warning, Deucalion spun round, letting out a mighty roar that reverberated through Aiden's bones. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, and he felt his eyes burn in his skull, felt his teeth lengthen and his nails grow into claws. He dropped to his knees, crying out in agony. He never changed without his brother. It wasn't just that they were stronger together. They were two halves of a whole, and now, as Aiden felt a familar red rage slip over his vision, his body convulsing with pain, he realised the agony he was experiencing was that of being forced to transform without his twin. His tight grasp on his control was gone, and he recognised the feeling of his humanity slipping away.

He stumbled to his feet, confused when he looked down to find his body looking largely unchanged, his claws the only difference. Apparently, changing alone meant changing on a much less grand scale than he was used to. He didn't have time to mull this over though, as his baser urges kicked in, and a wave of hunger ripped through him. He wasn't sure what he was hungry for, but whatever it was, he wanted it right now.

Suddenly there was a voice, soft and gentle in his ear, whispering something.

"Lydia." It whispered. "Go to her." Without a second thought, Aiden took off, crashing through the nearby window and dropping to the ground below. The broken glass sliced into him, but his body was healing before he could even feel it, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only. He let out a desperate howl before taking off at a sprint, heading towards her scent. _Lydia..._

* * *

Lydia was lying on her bed, nursing the same vodka tonic she'd been drinking for the last hour. She thought a drink would help calm her nerves after the strange couple of days she'd had, but as she watched the last of the ice melt, she realised it wasn't helping. She set the drink down on her nightstand, sighing heavily to herself, when a noise outside drew her attention to the window.

The full moon was visible from where she was sitting and she gulped, suddenly nervous. Slowly clambering to her feet, she began padding across the room, certain now she could hear a faint rustling coming from right outside her open window.

There was a bang, as her window was suddenly slammed all the way open and Aiden swung effortlessly into her room, landing in a crouch.

Lydia's gasp turned into a breathless laugh when she recognised him, relieved to see it was only Aiden and not some unknown monster.

"Aiden. You scared me!" She said, clutching her chest. Her relief soon disapated as he looked up at her, his eyes burning red, his expression almost unrecognisable. He had his long teeth bared at her, like he was famished and she was a steak he was preparing to tuck into.

She took a step back instinctively, as he straightened to his full height, his silence only serving to disturb Lydia even more.

"Are you... Are you ok?" She whispered fearfully. He didn't reply, or react in any way, and he wondered if he could even hear her. He was panting, his gaze travelling up and down her body hungrily, his claws flexing at his sides like he was itching to tear into her flesh. She felt strangely glad that she had decided to cover up for once, wearing bright coral skinny jeans with a demure long sleeved blouse that was buttoned up to her neck. The way he was staring at her, each breath accompanied by a soft growl, she felt somehow safer not having as much tempting flesh on display as usual.

Suddenly, without warning, he crossed the room to stand in front of her, moving faster than her eyes could process. In a heartbeat, he was standing so close to her that she could feel his breath across her cheek, still standing in that strangely feral pose, his claws stretched out either side of him.

Her breaths were coming out too shallow now, betraying the fear that ran through her. Moving slowly, like she was trying to escape a wild animal, she stepped back, gasping softly when he followed her, stalking forward like she was prey. She took another step back, cursing quietly when the backs of her legs connected with her bed, effectively pinned between him and the bed.

Taking a deep breath, Lydia stepped slightly to the side, hoping to be able to edge around him, when his hand shot out, gripping her wrist so hard she couldn't help but help the shrill whine that escaped her. She stopped in her tracks, glancing at him with wide, fearful eyes.

"You're hurting me," She whimpered, seeing no recognition or regret in his eyes. In fact, when she looked into the two glowing red orbs, she saw no humanity left there at all. She'd been with him during full moon's before and he had never been like this. This wasn't him.

The thought was little comfort to her though, as his grip tightened even further on her wrist, stepping impossibly close to her. A single tear slipped down her face, and his other hand came up to her cheek, a single claw tracing its path. She flinched away from the feel of a sharp claw dragging down her face, but his hand shot out to grip her jaw tightly, his crimson eyes flicking around her face, as if curious about her.

"Aiden, stop." She whispered softly, appealing to his human side. "Please. This isn't you."

For a brief second, his eyes flashed back to their usual chocolate brown colour and he frowned in confusion.

"Lydia? Run..." He choked out, before he was gone again, his eyes burning red again, his face distorted with rage and hunger and pain. His fingertips tightened around her jaw once more and, without warning, he pushed her backwards. Lydia landed heavily on the bed, unable to push herself up before his body slammed her down into the mattress. She struggled against him, but he was stronger than ever in this animal state, his forearm pressing terrifyingly across her throat, pinning her down, while his other hand groped wildly across her torso.

She sobbed breathlessly, gasping for air against the pressure across her neck, as his claws found the neckline of her flimsy blouse, tearing it open, the little pearl buttons pinging around the room.

"I can't breath." She gasped out, but he couldn't hear her, his eyes travelling ravenously across the expanse of pale flesh he'd just uncovered. She bucked her hips up, her fists pushing against him uselessly. He swatted them away like they were nothing more than irritations, capturing her flailing hands with his, holding them easily above her head.

Lydia took a few great gulps of air, as he removed his arm from her throat, using that arm to pin her hands above her head, his other hand digging in the skin across her stomach. It was like he was moving on instinct, his hands groping well-travelled paths across her body, but he forgot that this time he had claws. His groan was drowned out by her hoarse, piercing scream as his claws were suddenly biting down into her flesh, just deep enough to draw blood.

He growled at the sound, rearing back to bare his long, sharp teeth to her, before he dropped down again, aiming for her shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the points of his teeth barely graze her skin, before he was gone, the hot, heavy weight of him suddenly missing.

Her eyes flew open to find Isaac pinning a snapping, snarling Aiden against her wardrobe door. He glanced over his shoulder, nodding stiffly at her, before he abruptly turned to the window, tossing the growling boy out, before jumping out himself a split second later. There were no heavy thuds from outside, so she guessed it wasn't just cats who landed on their feet.

The silence didn't last long though, as the snarling and growling continued from just under her window, punctuated by sickening thuds and bangs, each of which resulted in agonising howls. Lydia managed to push herself up on her elbows, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do as she listened to the fight below. There was a crash and her whole house shook, and Lydia realised someone had just been thrown against the wall.

She was glad her mom was away, not sure how she would explain this to her. The adrenaline was just fading away, and her muddled mind was trying to decide what she would say to her mother if there was any structural damage, when she realised there was silence from outside. A violent tremor ran through her, her breathing quickening just as Isaac's head popped up in her window.

She breathed out a sigh of relief as he swung into her room, landing with a soft thump.

"Is the wall ok?" She asked numbly, barely registering his presence. In a heartbeat, he crossed the room to crouch in front of her, though she carried on staring at the carpet, not looking up at him.

"Lydia?" He ventured, speaking softly, like he was trying to calm an injured animal. "I think you're in shock."

"Yes." She agreed, nodding slowly, still not taking her eyes off the carpet. Very slowly, he brought his hands up, holding them out to her for a moment, before placing them on her knees. His touch drew her bewildered gaze to his face, like she was only just realising he was there. He was a mess, his white t shirt torn and bloody, revealing deep scratches across his torso. His cheek was bruised and there was a gash under his eye that looked like it would need stitches. She gasped at the sight of him, reaching out to touch his face tenderly.

"Oh..." She breathed out sadly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm already healing," he said, leaning back out of her reach. "Are you alright?"

Lydia just nodded, not trusting herself to answer him. She sprang up from the bed, pushing past him to the floor length mirror, gasping when she saw herself. Her makeup was running in little grey lines down her cheeks, her neck was red and blotchy, and there were four little bleeding pin pricks just above her navel. But more than that were the other bruises, that she felt like she was seeing for the first time. She knew they were there, but now, with her skin so very, very pale from shock and exhaustion, the hickey on her neck and the marks down the sides of her waist seemed to stand out so much more. Fresh tears welled up, rolling even more tracks down her cheeks and she sniffled loudly, unable to look at herself anymore.

Isaac cleared his throat, reminding her that he was still there, keeping his eyes studiously averted while he gave her a moment to wipe her eyes. Suddenly remembering she wasn't alone, her hands sprang to do up the buttons on her shirt, before she remembered they had been ripped off only minutes earlier.

There was the sound of shuffling and rustling behind her and Lydia glanced over her shoulder to see Isaac holding his jacket out for her, still facing away from her. He was being ridiculous, Lydia knew. She was in her own room - She could change into any item she wanted from her vast closet, but as she eyed the old, battered leather jacket, something made Lydia long to snuggle into it's warmth. Without thinking too much about how strange it was, Lydia reached out for it, shrugging her ruined blouse off and sliding the jacket over her shoulders. It was still warm from his body, the heat welcome against Lydia's chilled skin. It smelt like him, she noted, before shrugging the idea off, not wanting to get too caught up in why his musky scent was so comforting to her.

He finally turned to face her, trusting himself to look at her now she was covered up, swathed in his huge jacket. She cast her eyes around the room, wrapping the jacket even more firmly round herself, suddenly feeling under pressure. Her mouth opened to say something, but he cut her off.

"Goodnight, Lydia." He said simply, nodding formally at her, before striding to the window without another word. Lydia's mouth opened in shock, as she watched him climb gracefully out of the window.

Lydia sat down heavily on the end of her bed, simply watching the window in stunned silence for a moment, before yet another onslaught of tears took over. Laying back against the cushions, she curled into a ball, letting out the sobs she had been holding in since Aiden had first touched her.

Lydia didn't know how long she was crying, or if she would ever properly stop, when she finally reached over to turn off her lamp. She was still struggling to believe or understand why Isaac would leave her, tearful, hurt and alone, when there was a tiny, barely audible little rustle from outside her window. Any other night, she would have assumed it was the wind rustling the leaves on the trellis, but tonight, she guessed differently.

"I know you're out there." She whispered, knowing that if he was there, he would be able to hear her. "If you're planning on staying there all night, you might aswell come back in. You can sleep on the chair." She held her breath for a moment, hoping she hadn't just been talking to the wind, when there was a soft thump, followed by the quiet creak of her chaise longue. Lydia breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling to herself in the darkness. So he hadn't abandoned her after all. Finally feeling safe again, she snuggled down against the pillows, allowing the enveloping warmth of his jacket and the sound of his rhythmic breathing lull her to sleep.

* * *

**One of these days I'm going to write a fic where no-one tries to hurt Lydia, and you're all going to die of shock.**

**Lemme know what you think! **

**Also, my Stiles/Lydia fic is coming along nicely. Think I'll start posting it soon. Add me to author alerts if y'all don't wanna miss it! xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Just another quick warning: There's EXTREME chivalry ahead. If that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, I suggest you stop reading now. ;)**

**Also, just wanna point out that this chapter isn't me hating on the Allison/Isaac pairing. I actually think they're really cute together, but obviously for the purpose of this story, I'm downplaying their romantic side. **

* * *

When she woke the next morning, Isaac was gone. She had woken briefly in the night, rolling over and blinking her eyes open to find him reclining on her vintage chaise longue, one arm extended over his head. Lydia repressed a sleepy giggle at his pose - All he needed was the heart of the ocean round his neck, and the words "draw me like one of your french girls" and he would basically be doing a killer Kate Winslet impression. She smiled at the thought before letting her eyes droop shut again until morning. And now she was alone. She hadn't expected him to be here when she woke up - She had been vaguely surprised to still find him there in the night - but she couldn't ignore the strange empty feeling she had now he was gone.

Lydia got ready for school slowly, like if she spent half an hour choosing which shoes to wear, she could just put off going forever. She realised that tactic wasn't going to work though. She wasn't the kind of girl who hid away from her problems. At least she didn't used to be.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a long time before she left. Her concealer was working overtime today, covering the dark circles that still plagued her, and the hickey on her neck. She tugged at the neckline of her powder blue shirt dress. It was buttoned all the way up to her neck, trying to cover the blotchy marks from where Aiden's arm had pressed down across her collarbone, but a few bruises still peeked out from behind her collar. She tugged uselessy, trying to cover them, eventually giving up and hoping that no-one who wasn't looking for them would notice. The rest of her appearance was perfect as usual, her hair falling in soft waves, her make up flawless, but she still felt a sense of dread at setting foot out of the door. Her usual mask of perfection and fake confidence just didn't feel like enough today.

Reaching for her bag, she pulled out the bottle of pills, pretending she didn't notice the slight tremble in her hands as she popped the top off. Just one today, she decided. Just to take the edge off. She swallowed the single pill, before taking a deep breath, plastering her smug smile on her face and taking off to brave the world.

Lydia managed to get through half of the school day without incident. She kept her head down, tried and failed to pay attention in her classes, and nodded at what she hoped were the right places when Allison spoke to her. They'd parted for third period, Lydia enjoying the peace and the clarity that came from her math class. People seemed to do nothing but confuse and hurt Lydia, their motives a mystery to her, but at least numbers were always simple.

She felt a strange sense of exasperation when she stepped out of the sanctuary of her math class to see Allison leaning against the wall, waiting for her.

"There you are! I thought you were never coming out."

"I.. wanted to finish my last equation." Lydia said, distracted by the number still playing on her mind. Allison screwed up her face, confused by Lydia's admission. Wanting to finish her work was usually something Lydia would have lied about, wanting to preserve her cool, disinterested act, but today she just couldn't be bothered.

"Erm, ok?" Allison said, smiling at her like she still didn't quite understand. Lydia tried to smile back, suddenly feeling very exhausted by the thought of listening to Allison again. It wasn't that she didn't care about the girl's problems. It was just that whether or not her and Scott could ever start again seemed to pale into insignifigance when Lydia was covered in bruises that a crazed werewolf had inflicted upon her, her body beginning to ache now that her stolen pill was wearing off.

They started to walk together, Lydia staring straight ahead, zoning out as Allison talked.

"-And now Isaac seems to be avoiding me and I just don't get it. I thought we had a connection."

Lydia jerked her head up at the mention of Isaac, her attention piqued at the sound of her rescuers name. They stopped by her locker, Allison leaning her head back as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"What about Scott?" Lydia blurted out, unsure of why she felt a sudden surge of anger towards her friend. Her words came out sharper than intended and Allison furrowed her brow in confusion at her.

"I mean, er..." Lydia floundered for a moment, turning her attention to her locker, staring intently at her combination. "I thought you still liked Scott?" She rephrased her question, chancing a glance at Allison.

"I do." Allison whined. "And we did have a weird moment of our own the other day... in my closet." Allison blushed, suddenly looking shifty, before shaking herself, apparently deciding not to share that particular thought. "Things are just so weird right now. And it doesn't help having Isaac ignoring me. I just don't know where I stand." Allison finished, pouting as she picked glumly at the paint peeling off a locker.

"Maybe he's just not that into you." Lydia muttered, throwing her textbooks into her locker with more force than was neccesary. She looked up to find Allison looking up at her in shock, apparently unused to hearing Lydia saying what she really thought after the past few months of having Lydia's paler, quieter ghost for company.

"What?"

Lydia opened her mouth to reply, trying to figure out a way to stop the bitterness she was feeling from creeping into her tone, when her locker was suddenly slammed shut, making her jump. She turned to see Aiden standing uncomfortably close to her, panting hard. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing last night, only now they were filthy, covered in mud and dirt, with a large rip in the knee of his jeans.

"Lydia," he choked out, as she glanced around fearfully. They were attracting a few curious glances, but none more so than the one from Allison, who's mouth was hanging open as she looked Aiden up and down, taking in his dishevelled appearance.

"What are you doing here?" Lydia hissed.

"I came to see you." He announced breathlessly. He was leaning against a locker like he was exhausted. "I needed to tell you... I needed to explain- Deucalion did something." His eyes were darting about, like he was trying to make sense of his own words. "He made me shift. I... I couldn't control it. I couldn't stop-" His voice broke slightly, as he swayed in close to her, his arm still leaning against the locker. Allison still hadn't moved, her eyes transfixed on the scene in front of her. Lydia suddenly felt trapped, Allison hemming her in on one side, Aiden pinning her from the other side, memories of the night before rushing back to her.

She opened her mouth to reply, ashamed when only a soft whimper came out. He nodded like he understood exactly what the small sound meant.

"I know. I... remember what I... I remember what happened. What I tried to do. I can't begin to-" He trailed off, looking physically pained. "I woke up in the woods. All I could think about was getting back here, to you, to say how sorry I-"

He was cut off as a pair of hands suddenly grabbing him from behind, wrencing him away from her. Lydia let out a breath, finally able to breath properly without his scent and his body crowding her. In a flash, Isaac had Aiden pinned up against the lockers on the opposite wall, his hand round his throat, holding him there as he struggled.

"Stay away from her!" He roared through gritted teeth. Lydia cast her eyes around. The handful of curious glances had evolved into the whole hallway full of people all stopping and staring at the scene as it unfolded in front of them. She paled as she felt dozens of eyes shooting between her and the two boys locked in a scuffle across from her.

"I came to apologise!" Aiden shouted desperately, struggling to get the words out as Isaac's grip round his throat tightened.

"I don't care!" Isaac shouted. "You have no right."

Aiden seemed to give up fighting, going limp and gazing over Isaac's shoulder at Lydia. His eyes bore into hers, imploring her to say something or do something. She did nothing, her body frozen, unable to do anything but stare helplessly back at him.

Isaac followed his gaze, turning to take in her horrified expression and his hold on Aiden slackened instantly. He lowered his tone, leaning in close so that only Aiden, and not the crowds of fascinated onlookers could hear him.

"You're done here. You don't see her. You don't call her. You don't even think about her." He whispered menacingly. He didn't wait for a reply, just released him suddenly. Aiden stumbled, his hand flying to his throat, rubbing at the sore skin there. He caught her eye and froze. She hadn't realised her hand had unconsciously crept up to her neck, nervously toying with the pale blue fabric covering up the bruises there, mirroring his own action. His eyes darted down to where her hand was, guilt clouding his features before he dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to look at her anymore. Without another word, he simply picked up his bag and walked away, pushing through the shocked crowd and disappearing without a backwards glance.

There was a tense silence for a moment, before the whispers started, the murmured sound of the rumour-mill starting back up. Lydia unconsciously shrank back a little, inching closer to Allison, but one look at her friend's shocked expression told her that she was going to be no help.

Suddenly a hand found hers, dragging her forwards before she could react. She hadn't even seen Isaac move until he was right in front of her, tugging her insistently through the crowd, ignoring the sea of faces like they weren't there. Lydia wished she could do the same, casting her eyes down, away from the intrigued stares. She was sick of people looking at her like that.

They reached the corner and Isaac paused, before turning away from the dull roar of noise coming from the lunch room, Lydia struggling to keep up as he pulled her along. The stunned expressions gradually turned to a few inquisitive glances, eventually replaced with the teenage disinterest that usually filled the halls. With a cursory look over his shoulder, he darted to the side, pulling her into an empty classroom.

It was daylight outside, but with the lights off, the classroom seemed gloomy in that way that unlit classrooms always did. He finally released her hand, Lydia mourning the loss of contact as soon as he did. He shut the door behind him, while Lydia numbly staggered towards the desk, glad for the support it offered now the adrenaline had worn off. She turned, leaning heavily on the edge, unsure of what to say when she met his eye.

She opened her mouth to speak, when he suddenly shot forward, his hand reaching towards her face. Her words died before she could speak them as his thumb tenderly swiped across her cheek, wiping away an errant tear. When had she started crying?

She flinched, surprise crossing her features, and he looked like his heart was breaking for her when he realised she hadn't even noticed she was crying. He finished brushing across her cheek, letting his hand linger for a moment longer than neccessary.

Her eyes were wide and watery when she looked up at him, and he stared back at her solemnly.

"Thank you," she whispered tearfully. He let his hand drop from her face.

"I'm sorry I made a scene." He replied, relieved when she laughed softly in spite of herself.

She sniffled, finally having to look away from the way his blue eyes were boring into hers.

"It's ok. I'm sure people are used to it by now," she said sadly. There was a silence, where she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve, biting her lip nervously.

"Thank you for last night." She faltered, as she tried to find the words to show her gratitude for his actions. "For staying with me, I mean." She added, not wanting to dwell on the events that had transpired before that. She couldn't let her mind process the full extent of the incident just yet.

He looked down, smiling, letting his eyes drift back up to gaze at her.

"Anytime."

She opened her mouth in surprise. He really meant it. She could tell. The thought that he barely knew her, but was willing to be there for her despite all the drama she seemed to cause made her heart hurt. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. She didn't deserve the sweet way he was looking down at her.

He was standing closer than ever, his breath ghosting across her forehead and, before she could stop herself, she reached up on her tip-toes, pressing a soft kiss against his mouth.

He froze, before he remembered himself, pulling away and looking down at her in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lydia didn't let him, grabbing at the front of his shirt and pulling him back, crushing her mouth against his. She kissed him in earnest this time, plunging her tongue into his mouth, tangling her free hand into his curls, not letting him pull away this time. Her neck ached from the way she was tilting her head up to kiss him, and she tightened her grip on his shirt, using it to steady herself as she jumped up to sit on the desk, shortening their height difference.

His hands came up tentatively, coming to rest on either side of her face, as he kissed her back, hesitantly keeping up with the agressive pace she was setting. Shuffling further back onto the desk, she swung her legs open, the insides of her knees brushing against the sides of his hips. Her ankles connected behind him, and she tightened her grip, using her legs to pull him towards her. The move pushed their bodies together, and seemed to shock Isaac into remembering himself.

He wrenched himself away, taking a shaky step backwards out of her grasp. Raising his fingers to lightly brush against his lips, his eyes flickering down to where her dress had ridden up around her open legs, exposing too much of her pale skin to his gaze. She followed her eyes down, hurriedly smoothing her dress over her skin, shaking her head like she couldn't quite believe what she had just done.

"I'm sorry," she said, the words coming out more like a breathless sob. She looked up at him, tears spilling out all over again, taking in the slightly horrified way he was looking at her, his fingers still covering his mouth. "I'm so sorry." She repeated, before jumping down from the desk, and pushing past him, disappearing through the door in a haze of salty tears and cherry lipbalm.

"Lydia!" Isaac called out, after what seemed like an age of just standing there in shock. It was too late. Her heels were furiously clicking down the hall, breaking out into a run as they faded into the distance. Isaac could go after her, but he wasn't sure he trusted himself to. He didn't think he should talk to her until he could work out what the hell had just happened.

* * *

**UNRELATED SPEECH ABOUT ALLISON. FEEL FREE TO SKIP: **

**Oh Allison. Dear sweet Allison! I never used to be much of an Allison fan, but I've warmed up to her soooo much in the past season and I will genuinely miss her. Her death scene was SO touching and heartbreaking - My only qualm with it was that she was too ready for death. I know she's tough and fierce and she died in battle, but when it comes down to it, she's still just a 17 year old girl and I think I would have preferred to see her realising she was going to miss out on so much in those final moments. That said, seeing a strong, independent young woman in a teen drama is refreshing and one of the main reasons I'll actually really miss her character. Ok, rambling rant over - Just felt like sharing my feelings about the last episode. *stops ugly sobbing and tries to move on* **

**Reviews are lovely, but if the grief's too much, we can just hold hands or group hug or something? WE'LL GET THROUGH THIS! #staystrongforallison**


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